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An Empty Wall Of Thoughts

Since a long time

I live hidden

In the mountain

Surrounded by blind people

Busy with themselves

And others not noticing

Me more than my body and presence

The tower is damp and cold

I am a bitter old man

Writing and thinking

Finding little joy in life

While the battle for survival

Goes on in the valley

Few will ever read my thoughts

Long after I am gone

Only the flowers will

In their own way

Enjoy me and my ash

Very well worth

it the price of a great price for a great price

Gone behind the lines

On the other side

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The Self

I do not like myself

Especially

I just have to live

With myself

No peace of mind

Will ever come my way

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Tower of the Self

Dystopia is here with the rain

As well as the cold humidity of a

Meadow in the summer

We never wanted to be here

Always on the run

Moving from city to the city

But being a prison of

Time and circumstances

Not much choices being given

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Protagonist

I have been silent

For such a long time

No uttering a word

Kept my thoughts

To my self

And now I don’t see

Why it would matter

Anymore

All my battles will be lost

All my thoughts will be forgotten

One day so let’s give them

Wings and words

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Brief on Life

Life has different kind of surprises

In store for our simple minds

We are always trapped by it limitations

Can we become more than we are

Can we reach beyond our bounds

And limitations

The storytelling always says yes

It is possible

But reality takes its toll

Preying on what could not be found

Elsewhere but deep inside us

Where our own traitors live

That demands other things than

Expected

Leading us to unknown places

Far from where we once wanted

To go

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Silence

The night has its own silence

So quiet that

Almost nothing is heard

Only the distant

Noise of the heater

The mind space expands

We have to listen

To ourselves sometimes

Accept what we hear

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Winter nights

The winter night is cold

Promises nothing

Only cold feets

And silence

We are waiting

We will wait for a long time

Before the cold spring light

Enters this room

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The Minotaur 

Finalising the unthinkable 

I have become a monster

A Minotaur in his dirty, stinking

Maze

Without entrance and exit

I walk around looking out 

The tiny Windows to see

What is going on in the

Outside world

Hoping, even expecting 

The one day an earthquake 

Will make the walls

Tremble and fall 

More than 4000 years

Have I been waiting

The world has changed

But the tyrants remains

Doing their dirty deed 

In front of me every day

While the water slowly

Grinds the stone